


Temper

by Dedicate Kiwicrocus (cranky__crocus)



Series: SMACKDOWN '11 R2, R3, Final - CIRCLECEST [29]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen, Goldenlake, smackdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/Dedicate%20Kiwicrocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vase flew across the room and shattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temper

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SMACKDOWN at Goldenlake: fiefgoldenlake.proboards.com

            A vase flew across the room and shattered. The glass of the windows shuddered. The air felt electric. Tris’ eyebrows touched as the little cyclone spun around her legs, lifting her skirts and sending loose items about the room.

            She was nearly crying when Briar reached her.

            “Coppercurls, what’s got you in a twist?” he asked her, stepping straight through the slashing wind—wincing at the feel of it against his legs—and grasping her hands. His eyes sought hers. “Breathe, Tris. Just breathe.”

            Tris caught a breath and forced it deeper in her lungs. The winds stopped; the room calmed. The sudden stillness and silence was eerie after the commotion from the second before. Tris blinked and stared at the destruction she had caused. The tears collected again.

            “How can Daja keep me in a house when I can’t keep my own temper? How can Sandry trust me with children?” Her voice was a croak. “I should go back to Lightsbridge; I can’t be trusted here.”

            “If you can’t be trusted, no one else can either,” Briar insisted. He pulled Tris to the nearest chair and sat her down. “We’re not keen on letting you leave. Sandry and Daja will tie and shackle you here, if they must.”

            Tris sighed and hung her head, forehead against her palm. “Then I guess I’ll never leave.”

            Briar leaned against the arm of the chair.

            “But I suppose next time I get a letter from my student I’ll open it outside, lest she inform me again that she has endeavoured to capture a storm in a bottle and has consequently barely escaped death.”

            Briar placed a hand on her back and rubbed. He smiled, small and sympathetic. “Be sure to warn me when you get a letter; my plants don’t appreciate uprooting.”

            Tris offered him a weak smile. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! C:


End file.
